CASTING aside concerns about current national uncertainties the Officers of the Chartered Court Leet of the Manor Holsworthy met on the evening of July 5 at the yearly meeting of the Court to consider the far more important concerns of the ancient Manor.

No doubt negotiations to extricate the country from the EU will require numerous meetings before agreement is reached, but it will be as nothing compared to the Court, which has met for 862 years without agreeing anything and, judging from the latest meeting, it could easily spend another 862 years in the same happy state.

The Portreeve, John Addicott, was conducting the second meeting of his term and appeared with a confident, authoritative demeanour, far removed from the shy debutante of the previous year.

Before starting the proceedings, he called for a moment’s silence in memory of Charles Cornish, a former Portreeve and long serving officer.

Before opening the meeting, the Portreeve added that it would be wrong not to mention that his first year in office had been a great success and he was in the happy position of being able to congratulate the College of Past Portreeves for their inspired choice of himself as Portreeve.

Much of this he said was due to his ability to ignore everything that was said to him, as his wife could testify. Still, the business of the Court could not wait and first he needed to appoint a replacement for Charles as an Aletaster. The name had been corrupted over the years and the correct description should be ‘Aletester’, a task which involved donning leather breeches and testing the quality of the ale by pouring a little on a wooden bench and sitting on the puddle.

The quality could be assessed by the amount of stick the ale had. Too little, so the Aletester could stand up without more effort than age and condition demanded, and the ale would be understrength and too much so the bench came up still attached, indicating overstrength.

It was a task which required the correct posterior anatomy and after careful inspection he had concluded that Constable Richard Brown had practically the perfect physique for the job. He wouldn’t be missed as a Constable. Russell Dymond, was well able to discharge all their duties pretty well by himself. He then called on the town crier to read the roll of officers as follows:

Portreeve John Addicott, Town Crier and Beadle Roger Dunstan, Keeper of the Records Nigel Clark, Keeper of the Purse Barry Megson, Constables Douglas Beeley, William Oke and Russell Dymond, Aletasters Michael Johns, Philip Cole and Richard Brown, Reviewer of Encroachments and Nuisances Dennis Veale, Janitors Christopher Osborne and Terry Allcorn, Parkers Ronald Gerry and Pamela Johns, Breadweighers Barry Parrish and Elizabeth Oke, Hedgeviewers Philip Ford and Robert Painter, Houseviewers Allan Jones and Hilary Vivian, Lane Drivers Clifford Gilbert and Crispin King, Pinder Michael Reynolds, Haywards Brian Soby and Annette Dennis, Custodian of Weights and Measures Andrew Stacey, Sealer and Searcher of Leather James Rowland.

There were six officers missing. Most had valid reasons, but Bill Oke had used so many varied excuses for failing to make the effort to travel from Wells that the Portreeve had lost his patience. He duly sentenced Bill to be confined in Wookey Hole for an indefinite period at the Portreeve’s pleasure.

He was particularly worried about the absence of Barry Megson, the Keeper of the Purse, who had left the country immediately following his collection of subscriptions from the officers. His unease had deepened when he learned that Barry was in fact holidaying in a sunny island tax haven. Who had paid for it and how safe was the Portreeve’s sub?

Judgement would be reserved pending a forensic examination of Barry’s dealings with the Court’s investment fund. With this worry on the officers’ minds the Keeper of the Record’s presentation of the record of the previous meeting, fortunately for him, received little interest and no comment.

The Portreeve then presented Citizenship Awards to a girl and a boy from both the town’s schools for their contribution to their schools and the local community.

This year’s worthy winners were Alisha Squirrell and Scott Bingham from the primary school, and Chelsea Greenaway and T-Jay Acres from the Community College, and winner of the Art Award for the most promising art student from the Community College was Annabel Bellew. He also mentioned a number of local people who had achieved something of note during the year.

The Portreeve next called on the perfectly formed Chronicler Robert ‘Pixie’ Painter to present his chronicle of the happenings in the Manor since the last meeting. Among other events Robert recounted that last July Holsworthy Ales, for the second year running, had won the first prize for being the top North Devon Brewer, a considerable achieve­ment for a business only founded in 2011.

In August the Illyria Theatre Group’s performance of The Taming of the Shrew in Badock Gardens was so successful that they are returning this summer with two further productions.

The mayor presented Town Band members, Colston Isaac and Bill Skinner, with long service awards for playing the cornet for 70 years (Colston) and trombone and baritone horn for 69 years (Bill). That’s 139 years of blowing between them.

A skate park was opened in Clifton Heights, which had proved very popular with the young. Since neither Robert nor Breadweigher Barry Parrish had suffered any major sporting injuries for a while, no doubt we will soon see them there, practising their jumps. As top sportsmen and fitness fanatics they had both welcomed the opportunity to indulge in strenuous workouts at the new £100,000 state of the art gym at Holsworthy Sports Hall.

HATS production of Noises Off had won an award from the National Operatic and Dramatic Association. Well done Sarah O’Connor and her cast. Sadly in October, Charles Cornish, Robert’s predecessor as Chronicler and the Court’s longest serving officer, passed away.

In the same month the Princess Royal opened the new cattle market at Manworthy in the presence of a large number of invited guests. Inexplicably Robert was not one of them.

In December Holsworthy Museum celebrated 80 years since it opened. Liz Curtis has been a volunteer there for 36 years. She was not at the original opening either, despite scurrilous rumours to the contrary.

In the spring, beneath a photograph in the parish magazine of the Portreeve, John Addicott with the new headmaster of the primary school, John was referred to as an ‘Addict’. Alas, that he should have succumbed so soon to the louche lifestyle of the Portreeve’s privileged world.

In April a parking sign appeared right beside the Great Tree. The Guardians of the Great Tree were not amused and, led by the Sealer and Searcher of Leather James Rowland, strong representations were made to the authorities who, suitably chastened, soon removed it.

The Guardians were thus able to meet around the tree on May Day, undisturbed by any parking signs and were pleased to note that it has now reached quite a respectable size. At that time numbers of yellow lines appeared in the Manor to the confusion of all, but happily, according to Robert, everything was explained in an article in the Holsworthy Post on May 26, so the position was now quite clear. Either he didn’t mean it or it was time he took a rest somewhere quiet.

Aletaster Mike Johns presented a poem written by his granddaughter entitled ‘If I were 6 foot 7’, which she had recently presented on stage at Glastonbury, and which concluded with the lines ‘If I were just a foot taller, Just a little closer to heaven, My life would be infinitely cooler, If I were 6 foot 7.’

Enough of humorous verse, cried Janitor Allcorn, it’s time to talk about global warming, specifically with regard to wind turbines. In 1979 at the first international conference on global warming it was calculated that, since 1880 global warming had risen by .05%. In 1980 the first commercial wind farm started and by 1990 turbines were producing 6 gigawatts of energy and global warming had increased to .2%. By 2000 wind turbines were producing 17.4 gigawatts of energy and global warming had increased to .35%. By 2014 wind turbines were producing 369.7 gigawatts of energy and global warming had increased to .6%.

It was obvious that the turbines were acting like aircraft propellers and that there were now so many of them we were being pushed nearer the sun. It was essential that the Portreeve attend the next international conference on global warming and instruct them to adopt the Court’s plan to save the planet, namely that on a given day all turbines in the world will be switched off, then re-aligned away from the sun. Once done they will all be switched on again, thus pushing the Earth away from the sun and making it cooler.

The Portreeve would go down in history as the man who, at one stroke, had saved the world from global warming and made the need for wind turbines obsolete. The whole hall were full of admiration. This was a plan so cunning that even Blackadder would be impressed.

Perhaps the only person not impressed by Terry’s argument was newly appointed Aletaster Richard Brown. We must move swiftly on he said (this from a man who never moves at more than a gentle stately pace whatever the circumstances).

Fortunately, the Manorial groat had not been adversely affected by recent political upheavals, but the Court was not entirely immune from change and it should indeed be embraced. Why not abandon meetings in the hall and hold them in the Square beside the Great Tree, where officers could savour the fresh air and it would be more convenient for the Aletasters?

Actually he referred to the “not so Great Tree”, a remark so heretical that he can probably forget any Christmas cards this year.

We must also continue to support the diversity programme introduced by Phil Cole when he appointed several ladies and Crispin King to the Court, now known collectively as ‘Cole’s Cuties’. The good work had been continued by the new Portreeve, who had appointed a foreigner from Cornwall and a lady too young to be entitled to a bus pass.

No doubt there would be many more foreigners appointed to the Court in future and, before there were no more true Holsworthy officers left, he proposed that an officer with the right pedigree should be stuffed and mounted in a glass case and exhibited in Holsworthy Museum for the admiration of posterity. The ideal candidate for this would be Aletaster Mike Johns. No one would miss him.

Richard was probably wrong in this opinion, just think how eerily quiet and well ordered Court Leet gatherings would be without Mike.

Officers would get nervous and slightly hysterical that everything was proceeding so smoothly. However, better to lose Mike than not to support Richard’s suggestion. After all, if they refused to stuff Mike, whose name might be next on Richard’s suggestion list?

Breadweigher Barry Parrish had been mulling over the Chronicler’s reference to the new yellow lines. Bodmin Street, Croft Road and Glebelands were all infested with them, It was strange that the only place not affected in the whole of that part of Holsworthy was the space in Bodmin Street outside the Portreeve’s premises where, masquerading as a loading bay, was the Portreeve’s private parking slot.

Parking shouldn’t just be for blue badge holders and similar elite, but for all the citizens of the Manor, and he felt sure the Portreeve would show solidarity by refusing to use his space. The Portreeve smiled smugly and made no reply.

On a new topic, Barry had been at the opening of a care centre at Upcott, North Road recently and was pleased to announce that he had done a deal with very advantageous rates for some of the older officers of the Court, which he commended to them.

Furthermore he had secured the services of several lady officers, dressed in appropriate costume, to sing them lullabies and tell them bedtime stories, while they drank their horlicks.

With our local county councillor Barry Parsons, holding the cabinet post on the Council for ‘Performance and Engagement’, it might not be a bad idea if the Portreeve appointed a Performance and Engagement officer for the Manor.

One of the first tasks for this officer would be to encourage the town council to perform better with the Queen’s 100th birthday celebrations than they had with her 90th.

Unlike the Jubilee celebrations when Holsworthy had all sorts of events, and other towns very few. This time around, in contrast to Holsworthy, Bude had several street parties, although on a personal note the street party he had attended had not gone exactly according to plan.

As the Portreeve might be aware James was now a resident of Bude where he lived in a pleasant flat with extensive views of the Job Centre and Post Office. The street party in question was held on the pavement opposite the Post Office with fancy dress optional.

It so happened that at this time he felt that, having acquired a beach hut, he should really get into the Bude lifestyle by buying a wetsuit. He would need it if he was to enter the triathlon. A few days before he had purchased one at a local surf shop. He ended up with a full length four season suit complete with a hood and of a thickness not much less than a tractor tyre.

On the day of the street party, having some spare time beforehand, he thought it would be a good opportunity to practise putting it on, so he arranged to meet his wife at the party and nipped down to their beach hut where he had stashed the wetsuit. After an intense battle he managed to get it on, hood and all. However it was a tight fit, a very tight fit.

Something seemed to be wrong with his blood circulation and, since he couldn’t reach the zip cord at the back he couldn’t take it off. He remembered that the street party was fancy dress optional so decided all he could do was wear it to the party and enlist his wife’s help to disrobe. Walking wasn’t easy, but he had a more urgent problem. He suffered from a condition which required him to drink several litres of water a day, with natural consequences which were beginning to make themselves known quite urgently.

In fact his left leg was now feeling a lot warmer than his right and there was a definite sloshing sound as he went along. The first person he met at the party was the lady mayor. She said: “Nice outfit, but what’s the matter with your leg? Its huge”. James said: “Water on the knee.” He sidled off to his wife to explain the problem. Foreseeing the mess which would ensue, she refused to let him have the key of the flat, so having borrowed a serrated cake knife he secreted himself behind some nearby bushes and commenced sawing at the leg of the wetsuit.

Unfortunately he hadn’t reckoned with the CCTV on the Post Office and the police were soon on the scene, speaking to him on a loud hailer. They cried: “Put down the knife and come out. We have someone here from our Performance and Engagement Team who can help you.”

The Fire Brigade got him out in the end, rather messily but without too much damage to the wetsuit, although it was now more of a shorty than full length. So if the Portreeve decided to issue his Aletasters with wetsuits instead of their traditional leather breeches, shorties were best and room for manoeuvre should be borne in mind.

The Portreeve looked thoughtful. He said: “I think that breeches might be safer. Sticking the Aletasters in rubber outfits might give them strange ideas” — and banging his gavel he promptly declared the meeting closed.

by Nigel Clark